Behind Enemy Lines
by Jack Of All Spades
Summary: AU. Cocoon and Gran Pulse are at war, with each of their people having biased opinions. When a Corps soldier is captured—attempting to assassinate a chieftain—what will happen between the two? Flight, M for later chapters, Lightning POW.
1. Chapter 1

_Darkness grants a certain comfort. At the same time, the darkness has an underlying sense of threat—of that which you cannot see. It spoke of things best left untouched; multitudes of danger lurking in the shadows. It can take it's time—leaving wound after wound on a soul until they resemble a bloody mess, stumbling, blind. But then one remembers why they are here—why they accepted the dark. _

_It is easier to accept darkness than light—easier to take the quick road, rather than the long and tedious one. Morally, the wrong choice would be this. But the world is not black and white—everywhere you look there is grey. Neither choice is always right—and that's why the 'greys' must make the decisions. _

"You've got an hour. Make your shot, make it count—then get the hell out of there." The Sergeant Major handed a rifle to the corporal. "Remember: don't let this get to your head. We chose you because you're the fastest we got—we're not made for speed."

_You got that right. _The corporal thought, glancing over at her comrades—all large, bulky men. Decent shock troopers the lot, could run for miles at a good pace and sprint for short distances when needed, but they weren't like her. She was built for speed—long distance full blown sprint.

'Lightning', the men called her—the name just sort of stuck.

"Now," The Sergeant Major—Johnson—Lightning recalled, threw her a sheathed combat knife and a pistol with an attached silencer. "Should you fuck this up, you run like hell—and if any of the bastards get close to you, drop the sniper and take them out with these." Johnson studied her carefully, searching for any signs of hesitation. Upon finding none, he said, "You're a good soldier, Farron. Get out of this alive, you hear?"

"Yes, sir." Lightning saluted, turning on her heel to walk across the small clearing and to the chopper. She pulled herself up into the aircraft, sitting across two other soldiers. They were here in case the plane went down, ready to defend her and the pilot.

She nodded to the two—a man and woman—before turning her attention back to her rifle. Large, bulky—it was definitely going to get in her way. Thermal imaging, night vision, the works—it was all set in the scope. Lightning's hand drifted to her thigh pack, which contained more ammo for the gun. She prayed she wouldn't need it. One shot, and she'd be done.

Hopefully.

"Nice piece there." Lightning glanced up at the feminine voice. The other soldier gestured at the rifle, before pulling her own from her back to show Lightning. "Mine's shit compared to that."

"You're not going behind enemy lines and firing from kilometers of distance." Lightning murmured, staring at the ground surging past them. She wasn't interested in friends or small talk—this was business. No, it was even more than that. This was _duty_. She needed to get focused on fulfilling it.

"Heh, snarky much—?"

"Leave her be, Williams." The soldier sitting next to her rumbled.

"Just trying to make some conversation."

"I said shut it."

Lightning appreciated the man's brute authority over Williams. She wasn't here to make friends.

"ETA ten minutes." The pilot threw over his shoulder. Lightning could feel them descending, bit by bit. She closed her eyes, leaning back in her seat to take deep breaths. Calm, focus, these were the things that she needed right now—she didn't need to worry about the little things.

She needed to get the job done.

_There is no can or can't. _

No hesitation.

_Just another battle._

This was her job.

_Grow up. _

She was ready.

BREAK

Lightning ran through the forest. She was some distance from the encampment yet, able to run without fear of anyone hearing her. The rifle weighed her down and made running difficult—but she could manage.

As usual, whenever she began to run, her mind entered a sort of calm, dream state. Lightning was aware of her surroundings, always wary for an unsuspecting attack—however, her nerves had gotten to her, and running always seemed to help calm her down.

Her mind began to break things down piece by piece—laying the information out for her to see like a craftsman setting the tools of his trade on a table. Lightning would think about each piece, picking it up and turning it over in her mind, inspecting it for flaws, before moving on to the next tool.

Meticulous and thorough—that was what Lightning had been taught. It's what she was good at, as if she was a natural born soldier, ready since the cradle.

Her mind reeled from the thought—childhood. That only made her pace falter, almost making her trip over the roots of trees in her path.

_Focus._

Meticulous and thorough.

Tools.

No communication whatsoever—no flares, no radio, no contact. The hostiles were monitoring any incoming and outgoing communications in a twenty mile radius. She was on her own.

Five days of rations and water. Drop points had been set up—emergencies only, should she need to fall back, regroup, and attempt to assassinate again.

That was not an option for Lightning.

Enough ammo to take down a small platoon—not enough for the legion that her superiors thought occupied the camp.

And finally, medical supplies and stims—enough to make the junkies at Eden jealous.

Also not an option.

Things were yes or no with Lightning—she didn't believe in a middle ground. You were a soldier or you were a civilian; you were worth her time, or you were not. Simple.

Lightning slowed her pace to a crawl, knees bent, taking slow careful steps. Off in the distance, she could see lights from the encampment—fires. Intel said that the hostiles rarely used electricity, preferring to live off the environment like barbarians.

Contempt colored the thought. One word summed up her thoughts on the matter: _Amateurs. _

She paused as she reached the cliff's edge, kneeling on the ground. Taking out her binoculars, she zoomed in, barely making out the bright and colorful patterns on the canvas tents. Lightning clicked a button, zooming closer so that she could actually see the markings.

The target would be located in the largest tent, well fortified. The commander's 'house', many of the troops called it. The Corps own were built with superior defenses—solid concrete five feet think, no windows, gun turrets, bomb shelters, etc. This however… Lightning snorted, amused and irritated. Logs surrounded the camp, stacked on top of each other, the branches sharpened and jutting out at every angle. Two scouts were positioned at thirteen points surrounding the ring of logs, one standing on top of the highest barricade, the other on the ground, every now and then glancing around the camp. A smaller ring of logs surrounded her target's tent, with an armed guard on the lookout.

There were no turrets, the soldiers didn't have guns at all. They had spears, swords—archaic weapons.

There was no technology to speak of.

Lightning frowned. _Then how the hell do they block communications?_

She recalled at time when she was with her squad, shaking her head at some of the things they said. One of them was sent on a mission much like hers—difference being he was sent to recon, not assassinate. He told them all how his comms unit wouldn't work, but how they didn't have any jamming devices.

"_Then how'd they block it, Smith? Magic?"_

Laughter all around at the skeptical question, created just for jesting. Smith's expression was enough to quiet them down.

"_Whatever the hell it is, it ain't like ours."_

Lightning shook her head, pocketing the binoculars, and taking a deep breath. She needed to focus—getting lost in memories and rumors, that was beneath her.

_Get your head straight. _

She snapped her fingers, feeling the familiar butterflies in her stomach as gravity flowed around her, illuminating her with a pink-purple hue. Taking a step off the cliff, she fell to fall slowly and gracefully to the ground.

Now was the time for stealth.

Taking out her pistol she began to stalk towards the camp.

Scouts were no doubt patrolling the area, looking for resources—she was going to have to be careful if she wanted to keep breathing.

BREAK

Lightning pressed to the ground, crawling slowly up to the top of the hill. She placed her pistol beside her, within reach. Her other hand unbuckled the rifle from her back, bringing it out to set the rest on the ground in front of her. She leaned forward, keeping her breathing nice and easy, looking through the scope.

She could make out the facial expressions on the guard's faces—the color of their eyes, the tattoos on their temples. Lightning shifted to the right, turning the rifle to the left. The commander' s tent flap was closed.

Now came the wait.

A long howl ripped through the air, making her flinch twisting around to search for the sound. Nothing moved in the foliage.

_Must've been further away. _

She relaxed once more, looking down the scope to make sure her target was still in the tent.

_You're getting paranoid. _

It felt like she was being watched—as if someone's eyes were making two holes in the middle of her back. Her grip tightened on the rifle, her teeth clenching.

_Always trust your gut instinct, soldier._

Lightning accepted the internal advice, letting the rifle rest on the ground as she snatched up her pistol, just in time to have her hand crushed underneath a booted foot. Her eyes went wide, hissing angrily and in pain, as the boot continued to press down on her digits—about to break the delicate bones. Yanking the combat knife from her left thigh, Lightning swung it around to bury it in the calf of the intruder.

A loud yell was heard, but she was already moving. She shot up, darting around the man to bring her hand over his mouth, bringing her knife across his throat. She held him until he stopped struggling, finally letting him slump to the ground as his body went limp.

_Too close. _

Lightning flexed her hand, wincing as she did so. It was her right hand—_Trigger finger_, she thought. The scout was smart, crushing the hand that she normally made shots with. She wiped the blade off of the scout's clothes, sheathing it and the pistol. With her left hand she scooped up the rifle, the weight alone would cause her enough pain with her right.

She needed to find another vantage point—once they saw the body they could track her anywhere.

Turning, she began to lope through the forest again.

BREAK

Finally, she was ready.

Laying on the ground she peered down the scope. The commander hadn't left the tent in the entire night. Not to mingle with the guards, not to check to make sure the guard were doing their duty. It was frustrating, and Lightning wasn't feeling particularly patient. Especially after her first encounter.

Her whole body tensed as the flap moved, her grip tightening, breathing picked up speed, glancing from the scope to confirm that it was real. She quickly readjusted her position, scooting forward, closing one eye to peer down the scope.

_That… can't be right._

It was a girl. Red hair, slightly tanned skin, bright emerald eyes—she was shorter than all of her guard!

_That must be the commander's daughter or something. _

She wouldn't know why a commander would bring her daughter out on the field—but she couldn't make heads or tails of the hostiles anyway.

_But what if it is…?_

Her trigger finger twitched, sending a twinge of pain.

_Gut feeling, soldier. Take the shot. _

What if she was wrong though?

_Retreat, camp out, grab supplies, regroup, go assassinate. Lather, rinse, repeat. _

That was true—but it increased her chances of dying and she wasn't fond of that.

Lightning took a deep breath, holding it as she gently rested her finger on the trigger—nothing in her sight other than the small girl, currently talking to and smiling at one of the guard.

"Not today, viper."

She just managed to twist around in shock before everything went black.

BREAK

Muffled voices, loud shouting—all of it was indistinct. Her eyes blearily opened, blinking in confusion. She just managed to sit up, only to feel a hard slap across her face, knocking her back down to the floor.

Lightning groaned, her head fuzzy and vision blurry. Feet shuffled across the floor, the flap was shoved open as someone left the tent that she was in. Someone came, grabbing her by the arms to push her into a chair. Instinctively, she struck out, managing to connect a few decent punches. Lightning stopped when she felt a punch, much stronger than her own, connect with her stomach. Bent over—she tried to regain her breath—not aware of her arms being brought behind her and tied to the back of the chair.

Another slap.

Lightning glared in the general direction, spitting in the hostile's face.

Her vision was clearing—she could see who her assailant was. She watched as the woman wiped Lightning's spit off of her face, her dark green eyes burning with a fire that made Lightning uneasy.

"Name." The woman's accent was exotic—a lilting voice that sent chills down Lightning's back—as was the rest of her. Darkly tanned, wild, wavy brunette hair with tips dyed red. Full, sensual lips, that were currently drawn back to revel sharp canines. And eyes… Lightning took a minute to focus on them. The ring of gold that surrounded the pupil, the way they seemed to _burn_ with the amount of life, vitality, and emotion that she had. "Give me your name!"

Lightning was jerked backwards by her hair, forced to glare up at the tribeswoman as she stood over her.

_Do what she says, there's nothing else you can do right now._

"Lightning."

The huntress—now that she had released Lightning and could see the pelts hanging off of the pelt—smirked, placing her hands on her hips as she looked her up and down. She walked over to the tent flap, pulling it back to reveal the rain from outside, and that Lightning was in the center of the camp. Just as the huntress pulled the flap back, gesturing outside, there was a flash of lightning, and the loud clash of thunder that followed.

"Lightning, eh?" She allowed the flap to fall closed. "Looks like you chose your name poorly."

Lightning ignored the insult, staring straight ahead.

_Interrogations are to get you to open up, be it torture or emotions. Remain stoic and icy—and they can't get to you._

_Stay icy, soldier._

She felt a tug on her uniform. Lightning glanced down at where the woman had pinched the symbol of her rank pulling it smooth to see it clearly. "What rank are you, soldier?" When she got nothing but silence, the huntress grabbed Lightning's chin, forcing the woman to look her in the eye. "I can make your life a living hell," She whispered, a dagger brushing against Lightning's cheek.

_You can't die, yet. _

"Corporal." She was proud of herself for keeping her voice steady.

"Corporal." Her interrogator snorted, pushing her chin away roughly. "You're a waste of time." The huntress turned, walking away from her toward the entrance of the tent. "Next time you try to assassinate a chieftain—get the right intel." She looked back at Lightning to gauge her reaction. "You're target's right here."

BREAK


	2. Chapter 2

Lightning twisted her wrists, testing the strength of the rope. She needed to get out, fast. The rumors that her fellow GC soldiers came to the forefront of her mind:

"—_they're savages—no telling what they do to the prisoners there—,"_

"_Barbaric mongrels. Better off dead."_

"… _talked to a POW from one of the hostile's camps—he was never the same."_

It was hard trying to remain focused on escaping, when all evidence pointed at the fact that there _was _no escape. Fear began to cloud her judgment and thoughts and she struggled wildly with the bonds, thrashing around in the chair. She would arch her back forward, feet firmly on the ground, trying to walk. Giving up on that she searched for anything sharp that she could possibly—

"Stop moving." Lightning fixed her wide eyed gaze on the head of clan. Those dark, green eyes were still burning, but it resembled embers burning long after the blaze had gone out. Her voice was calm, not like how it was early when the woman's emotions had been thrown out for all to see. She gulped as the woman walked behind her, the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

Lightning jerked instinctively when she felt a warm, calloused pair of hands on her wrists untying the bonds. She immediately lunged forward, trying to get away from the grasp of the huntress. All that she managed to do was bring the woman tumbling forward, knocking the chair away only to land on Lightning's back. Using this to her advantage, the huntress yanked Lightning's wrists up, placing her knee on her back, and _pushed. _

The corporal screamed.

"This can go on for a _long_ time." The woman said, loosening her hold slightly. "You cooperate, you'll live. You keep fighting, and I'll kill you." Lightning could only gasp her breath in and out, her mind still reeling from the pain. "Do you understand?" She nodded numbly.

She was jerked up, pulled backwards to the center of the tent, which had a tall, wooden pillar to support the tent's structure. Tying Lightning's hands on a hook overhead, the chieftain yanked a dagger from its sheath. Lightning couldn't help her attempt at backing away, but the huntress did not hurt her as before—no, she simply began to cut all of Lightning's clothing off.

"What're you—!" A hard slap connected with her cheek.

_Okay… No talking. _

Lightning watched with a growing sense of nervousness. When the tribeswoman was done, Lightning was only left in her underclothes. But even in her fear and anxiety, she noticed how the other woman had paused for a few seconds, eyes wandering over her body.

She couldn't take it. Lifting herself up with arm strength alone, Lightning kicked out at the woman, managing to connect a blow on her chest. "Don't you even try it, you fucking bastard!" She hissed.

The response she got wasn't what she was expecting. She _laughed_.

"Soldier girl," She began slowly, stalking over to Lightning who was now gripped with terror and couldn't move. "I can do whatever I want with you." The cold steel from the dagger tapped her side for emphasis. "Remember that."

The corporal's breathing picked up.

_She wouldn't… rape me. Would she?_

Something in Lightning's eyes must have been obvious for the taller woman to see, for she quickly avoided eye contact, turning the corporal around.

_Please don't—please—!_

All she felt were gentle fingers on the back of her neck, probing, searching. She unconsciously relaxed as the fingers buried themselves in the muscles. Lightning was turned around once more, the chieftain now untying her bonds above her head. "Don't try to escape." Lightning rubbed her wrists as the rope was untied. There were rings of red around the porcelain skin. She heeded the hostile's words, knowing that it was pointless for now. In the middle of the camp, with armed guards, weaponless, and with a strong adversary with a dagger, was simply suicide.

She jerked again involuntarily as her hand was brought up to eyelevel, the dark fingers probing between the joints, moving the muscles in a way that massaged Lightning's hands. The process was repeated for the other.

Swallowing, she tentatively asked, "What are you doing?"

The woman stopped briefly, glancing at her before continuing. Finally she was done, and let Lightning's hand drop. Now she stared into the corporal's eyes, almost glaring. It felt like everything in her soul was being laid out in plain sight for this stranger to see.

"Do you have any tracking devices?" Lightning shook her head no. "Have they installed a chip in your brain?" Once more, she shook her head no.

Those green eyes flickered, searching Lightning's cerulean orbs. Abruptly the woman nodded, walking over to grab something from a chest and returning to throw the items at Lightning. "Put those on." She muttered, exiting the tent. "I'll return soon."

Lightning bit her lip, examining the tribal clothing as her thoughts ran rampant through her head.

Not once had the woman stared at Lightning as she did before when Lightning lashed out at her. She only looked into Lightning's eyes.

* * *

><p><em>Think.<em>

Lightning paced in the tent, back and forth, back and forth.

There was no way she was getting out of the camp alive. The guard would surely kill her, making everything pointless. She _could _assassinate the chieftain still, but that was a straight shot of dying—and she didn't plan on losing her life.

_Think, damn it!_

The chieftain—her target—was bluntly emotional, but compassionate. Angry upon meeting Lightning at first, but this was expected after her attempt of assassination. However, most leaders would have had a professional interrogator asking her the questions, prodding her for details. And not only that, they would remain calm, cool, and collected—the opposite of their prey, in most cases. It seemed that their roles were reversed yesterday, however Lightning was beginning to lose her control. She shook her head to get her thoughts back in order. Compassionate. Yes, Lightning knew she was. When she had lashed out, snarling at the woman out of the _fear _of—she shuddered—the huntress had immediately backed off.

_They might not be as bad as they others say… _She frowned. _Or it could be a trick—trying to make you feel secure. _

"Ugh," Lightning slumped against the pillar, sliding all the way to the ground, cradeling her head between her hands. No way out, no certainty of the future—it was all very bleak and wearing down on her spirit.

Just then, the flap was pulled back.

Looking up, she immediately tensed as the girl she had tried to assassinate took small steps toward her, biting her bottom lip, eyes wide, a bowl and loaf of bread in her hands. The girl quickly placed the food on the table before throwing her one last curious look mixed with apprehensiveness, leaving the tent hurriedly.

Lightning took a deep breath, drooling at the delicious smell coming from the food. Her stomach growled in hunger. Stumbling to her feet, she grabbed the spoon out to toss it on the table. Taking the bowl in her hands, Lightning tipped it back, drinking the stew quickly, not caring that she burnt her tongue.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she began to gnaw on the bread, her thoughts now taking a new turn.

Clearly, these people didn't know how to interrogate correctly. GC interrogation standard procedures were that you keep the person alive, keep their health minimal. That started with starvation and dehydration, followed by injury and pain, just enough to leave the interrogated weak and willing to provide answers. Depending on how things were from a political standpoint, the prisoner would then be released to their fellow people or killed.

But this...

Lightning's eyes darted over to the empty wooden bowl and spoon.

Her thoughts were once again interrupted as the huntress pulled the flap back and entered. Lightning was shock still as the woman's eyes took in the empty bowl in front of her, before shifting her gaze back to the soldier. "Get up." She obeyed. "Hold out your hands." They were raised in front of her. A strong, leather cord was tied around her wrists, a longer piece leading off from it like a leash. "Follow me, and keep your head down."

The soldier was jerked forward as the huntress pulled her. Passed the tent flap she went, Lightning's eyes darting around, never leaving the ground but taking things in with her peripherals.

Everywhere, the other soldiers stopped what they were doing, staring at her. It was more of a glare, that shown with a bit of curiosity and a lot of hate. Lightning had to endure this as she was drug along throughout the camp, some of the soldiers deciding to follow the two.

The huntress stopped abruptly, making Lightning bump into her from behind. Disobeying, she raised her head, eyes looking at Fang curiously as to why they had stopped, before shifting over and answering her own unspoken question.

In front of them stood a dark skinned, burly man, his jaw set, arms crossed. He appeared to be a richly decorated warrior—someone of renown skill to have that many variations on his armor.

That or he was supremely conceited.

The man jerked her head in Lightning's direction, speaking to the chieftain with a different, garbled language. Whatever he had said made the woman cross her arms like the man, placing one foot slightly in front of the other.

_Disagreement and negativity_—Lightning had been taught body language in the Corps.

The huntress waved the leather leash, replying to the man in the same language. The man stomped forward gesturing at the leash and then pointing off to the forest.

_He wants to leave me here to die. _Lightning's blood ran cold.

Shaking her head, the woman started to answer back but was interrupted as the man came even closer yet. Lightning subconsciously drew nearer to the chieftain, which made the woman glance back at her. What she saw in the woman's eyes made Lightning hesitate for a brief moment. It was quick, just a flash, but it was enough.

… _Assurance?_

Now yelling, the man waved his arms wildly, his finger jabbing out at Lightning until finally the chieftain had enough, and—turning—she raised one leg up and smashed it into the man's chest, making him fly back several feet to land flat on his back.

The next thing she said was spoken in a tone that rung with finality and authority, and then she quickly pulled Lightning along. The corporal looked back at the man, pushing himself off the ground, jerking away from others trying to help him up. She managed to catch the glare from him, along with the hand crossing his throat motion, before twisting back around sharply her eyes instead watching the huntress.

Lightning now _looked _at the woman. She walked… fluidly. Every movement was graceful, and with every step, muscles subtlety rippling underneath the tanned flesh. Her dress was foreign, as was expected. A blue, silky material was wrapped around her waist with a piece of the cloth thrown over her should like a sash. All of this was held together by a belt that coupled as a—Lightning squinted, trying to see—sheath? It was small, maybe three inches long, round and empty. _What kind of weapon does __**that**__ hold?_ She resumed her examination, taking in the pelts that occasionally swished back that she had noticed before. Her eyes roamed upwards, barely managing to spot the dark, large tattoo on her left arm. The black bracers on her arms also revealed her to be a warrior, but it confused Lightning as to why she wore colorful bracelets on one arm.

She raised her eyes as they stopped once again, her captor climbing up a box-like structure that rested on the ground. A sharp tug made her follow, stepping up the wooden platform to enter a covered alcove, littered with pillows, drinks, and food. Lightning saw that the girl was here as well, knees drawn up to her chest as she watched the soldier warily with her large, bright green eyes.

As the chieftain sat down, she immediately noted how the younger girl, shifted closer to her, eyes always on Lightning.

_Serah_.

Flinching, she broke her gaze from the girl, looking down at the ground.

"Looks like you feel guilty." The huntress remarked as she leaned back to rest on the palms of her hands. "As you should. Killing soldiers is one thing—killing a little girl? That's low."

"… Why bring me here? Why not—?"

"Leave you with the guards?" She interrupted, smirking. "You know what they say—or maybe you don't on that twisted planet of yours. 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer'. I'll be keeping my own eye on you, rather than worrying about some stupid klutz loosing track of you."

_She's a talker. _

"Fang…" The girl tugged on the blue fabric that the huntress was wearing.

Lightning blinked, surprised; the name fit the woman like a glove.

The chieftain—Fang—wrapped one arm around the girl's shoulders, staring hard at Lightning. "This is Vanille. A healer from another tribe, who has only killed animals in her entire lifetime of only seventeen years—the lifetime you were about to end."

Lightning inhaled sharply, eyes burning.

_Don't you dare. _A part of her mind snapped at her. The other part—the moral part that she had tried to stamp away years ago, whispered back. _She's Serah's age. _

She was at a loss for words.

Added to the guilt that she had failed at her duty, was the fact that she was going to take an innocent life—for this girl _was _innocent, from her physical appearance, down to her personality. Lightning never signed up for this. She wanted to _save _people by taking the bad out of the world, but not someone like this.

Not a child.

"I…" She couldn't get the right words out, instead choosing to keep her eyes glued to the wooden floor.

"Fang." Lightning heard the girl berate the huntress, eyes peeking through her bangs at Vanille who was crawling to her. "Lightning?" Fang must have told Vanille her name, she thought dully. The redhead reached out, tentatively grasping a bound fist that was clenched tightly. "I forgive you."

Those three words had more weight than any Lightning had ever heard. The girl—Vanille—had no idea of the effect this had on the soldier. Her whole life she had wanted to hear those words—not from her specifically, but from someone very much like her. Hearing it now—from an enemy no less—made her crumple. It made everything questionable to her.

She was here to protect, to finish a war before it started. But how could people like this, be such a threat to hers?

She didn't notice Fang watching her closely, eyes wide.

"I'm… sorry." She whispered to Vanille.

'_Think about it, soldier.' _Fang's words echoed in her mind. _Why would they send a rookie like you to do a professional killer's job? _Lightning's world was crumbling, falling to pieces. _They sent you to die, but they haven't killed you yet. Anybody else would have interrogated you, tortured you, and then killed you. You've heard the stories, you know the facts. _

_Question is, was everything you believed false?_

The thought stung like wildfire.

_You tried to kill someone like your sister. Is this what you wanted to become when you signed up? _

No...

_You're better than this—you are just as good as this kind-hearted girl who had the grace to forgive you for almost __**killing**__ her. Your parents knew that and Serah knew that, now's the time to walk the walk. _

Lightning didn't understand why her thoughts were taking this wild, one-eighty turn. Maybe it had always lurked in the back of mind, subconsciously wondering. All she knew was that everything she thought written in stone was now erasable.

There were a whole new set of rules now.

A part of her mind still whispered thoughts of warning, _They're lying… Traitors, savages, liars… You're falling for it…_

She closed her eyes and accepted it.

_I will __**not**__ become a monster._

* * *

><p>They were being carried through the forest—initially shocking Lightning as the four large men pulled them upwards, resting the wooden poles on strong shoulders. The guard made a ring around them, five men in the front and back, and six on either side, separated into two groups of three to prevent flanking.<p>

Fang continued to stare at Lightning, making her uneasy, but Vanille soon captured her attention.

The girl was busy weaving something, humming to herself happily as she leaned back to rest against Fang. Occasionally she would softly sing, her practiced fingers quickly going to work.

Lightning's trance was interrupted as Fang leaned forward, careful not to break Vanille's concentration, and handed her a flask of water and a bowl of fruit. Staring at it, shocked, her eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of her 'captor' and was met with an uncertain friendliness. Timidly, Lightning accepted the offerings, taking a slow sip of water and choosing to nibble some of the red grapes.

It was a shaky company they had, but it was one nonetheless. Lightning knew that Fang did not trust her, and neither did she with Fang. However, there was something that told her that none of the women would hurt her—Fang's earlier hits and threats aside—and neither would she hurt them. She'd still escape if she could, but Lightning decided then and there that she could not harm the two that had forgiven her for an unspeakable crime.

And as for escaping… She had a promise to keep.

* * *

><p>Serah wiped her hands on the towel in the kitchen upon hearing the doorbell ring. "I got it!" She called, hearing the other people in the house offering. Serah quickly made her way to the door, opening it. Her grin quickly vanished as the two decorated officers in front of her.<p>

"_Ma'am… I regret having to tell you this…"_

"—_she was an excellent soldier with a bright future ahead of her."_

"_We will always remember and honor Lightning Farron as we serve and live our lives."_

Serah sobbed, her hand over her mouth to muffle the screams. On her knees in the front door, she didn't see the men turn around and get in their car, nor did she see through the blatant lies that spit through their forked tongues.

All she knew, all she felt, were the arms of her friends, Snow and Lebreau along with the rest of NORA wrapping around her.

Her sister was dead.

* * *

><p>The officer in the passenger seat flipped open his cell phone, dialing the encrypted number. "It's done." He listened to the indistinct voice on the line. "Yes, she believed every word—," He paused. "There's no way that Farron could make it out of that alive—it's hell out there and she was just a rookie." Flipping the phone closed, he turned to the driver.<p>

"Well done, Sergeant Major Johnson."

The hands on the steering wheel tightened.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** _I apologize for the delay. Thank you for all of the reviews. They are much appreciated, and I'll get to thanking each of you personally. I hope you enjoy._

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><p>Lightning jerked awake as she heard a loud booming noise off in the distance. Her eyes widened as she recognized the sound, her keen ears barely hearing the small whistles that was emitted right before the sound tore through the still night air, right before the ground shook from the force.<p>

_Mortars._

She felt the alcove that she, Fang, and Vanille were in being lowered quickly to the ground. Fang and Vanille were already awake—Fang looking as if she could rip everything in sight apart with her bare hands, and Vanille with a mixture of sleepiness and fear on her face.

"Vanille, get the guards—start running back to camp."

"But—,"

"Now!" Fang barked, shoving the girl out before following. Lightning scrambled after her but was jerked back by her restraints, tied to the strange carriage.

"Damn it!" She twisted around, eyes searching desperately for Fang. It sounded as if the mortars were getting closer. "Hey! Let me out, damn it!" Her voice broke. Death by mortar… That went through her mind over and over and over—there wouldn't be a body left for Serah to bury—

Lightning yanked her wrist harder, until she felt one warm hand holding both of hers, a knife cutting through the ropes like butter. The same hand pulled her forward, and all she caught before she was flung over a back was a wavy mass of raven hair, a pair of viridian eyes that were narrowed to slits, and nostrils flaring in anger.

Then they were running through the forest. Mortars were coming closer and closer—

_What the hell is she thinking? We're running in the wrong direction—_

Bait. She was the bait. Lightning's eyes widened in realization before her fists and feet started to kick and hit Fang hard enough so that the woman slowed. As a sharp kick made contact with Fang's midsection, the chieftain crumpled to the ground, allowing Lightning to roll away, and jumping to her feet.

The color from her face quickly paled as she saw a mortar drop off one hundred yards away, the dirt clods flying from the area. Her instincts suddenly screamed—_DUCK!_—and she did, nearly allowing hundreds of bullets to tear into her. She pressed her body as close as she could to the ground and then finally realized as a scream ripped the air—

Her head twisted to look at the chieftain, who had numerous bullet wounds on her chest. It seemed as if she too had realized just in time what was happening, but wasn't fast enough. Thankfully—_or unthankfully_, her mind whispered—none of the bullets had hit her head.

_She was going to kill you!_ A part of her mind snarled as Lightning scrambled back to Fang, moving to put pressure on one of the wounds.

_It's not right—_

_It doesn't matter! PSICOM is over there and you've got your prize, now bring her over there!_

Viridian eyes rose from the dirt to look at her. They weren't pleading or begging like Lightning had expected. There was nothing but resignation in those eyes, eyes that spoke of being caught in a situation like this before. It was a look that only the living have when they know death is looming over them.

_This is your chance to see Serah again._

_It's not right._ Her mind whispered back, fiercely.

Clenching her jaw and her fists, she shook her head sharply. Her blue eyes bore into the warrior's. "You owe me." She growled, pulling the woman closer by the waist and dragging her as she crawled away from the rain of bullets. "Now get your ass moving if you want to keep breathing."

_She won't last long at this rate—where were those damn drop points? Think!_

North, they were all north—one by a river, the other resting in a small clearing that was shielded by trees. The latter was obviously their destination. PSICOM's dropships wouldn't be able to see through the foliage—_But their heat seekers will_, Lightning thought, biting her lip. Finally reaching a point where the bullets weren't shooting past, she stood up, dragging the chieftain with her. Throwing Fang's arm over her shoulder and holding onto it with her hand, she reached the other to grasp her waist tightly and staggered off in the general direction.

_We can't make it today; find a stopping point, stop the bleeding, and wait. _

She did just that, stumbling for God knows how long until she finally reached a small cave set into the cliff. Lightning had to kneel and then drag Fang in, and when she didn't make a sound, the soldier started to worry.

Lightning laid Fang down on the ground, glancing at the opening of the cave to reassure herself that PSICOM soldiers weren't going to bust through at any moment. Looking back down at the chieftain, she started to rip some of her clothing off, wrapping it around a gash on Fang's upper arm. Lightning quickly unbuckled Fang's sari, and took a sharp intake of breath at what she saw.

Fang was riddled with bullets—there must have been six or seven in total.

_There's no way. _

Lightning looked into Fang's eyes, which were clouded with shock. She slapped Fang to snap her out of it. Dimly, green eyes met hers. "I need you to stay with me—no, look at me!" Lightning growled, holding the woman's chin in place. "You can live, just look at me and _do not close your eyes_."

Slowly, Fang nodded. "I need to take the bullets out, and it's going to sting." Lightning's hands shook nervously, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. "Okay, I'm starting." She told Fang, hoping to warn her of the oncoming—

Fang's fist connected with the ground as Lightning dug a finger in to grab the bullet. Her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face as Lightning moved around in her stomach. It was hard for both of them—Lightning needed to be quick and thorough, but she couldn't possibly remove all traces of the lead from Fang's body. It was tough holding the warrior down, and she had to stuff Fang's sari in her mouth to muffle the screams.

_If PSICOM hears us…_

There was finality to the sound of metal bullets hitting the hard stone floor underneath them. One, two, three—Lightning stiffened as she heard the rustle of leaves; branches shoved aside, and garbled voices exchanged. Looking down, she could see Fang just as tense—which was probably killing her. She winced as blood continued to pour out of the multiple wounds.

It took ten minutes for the platoon to move and five more for Lightning to calm her racing heart and start working on Fang again.

As the time passed, both of the women grew tired. Lightning's eyes darkened considerably, the shadows underneath her eyes giving her a haunted appearance. Every movement made her hands tremble, made her heart pound harder as if it was struggling to work properly.

Fang was far worse—there was barely any light in her eyes, her hair matted with blood, her stomach looking as if it had been torn inside out. With each pump of her heart, blood would squirt out of the wound to pour to the ground uselessly.

Hours later, Lightning finally leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. "There's nothing more I can do." Her voice sounded strange, even to her. It was rough, and cracked at the end of her sentence.

"Why?" Fang's whispered reply, made Lightning open her eyes once more, to look at the warrior who had her head turned to the solider. "You could have turned me in…"

Lightning hesitated. Then finally, "Go to sleep."

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><p>Vanille balled her hands into fists as she watched PSICOM tear the forest apart, burning the trees and animals. They didn't care; their kind—Pulsians, in their eyes—were the same as them. Lesser creatures.<p>

"Dia Vanille, we must hurry." A guard shifted closer to her as he said this, his eyes never leaving the soldier that was thirty feet from them.

"We can't leave Fang behind!" That was out of the question. Fang telling her to go back to camp—she should have known better.

"With all due respect, if we stay here, we will die. Fang will have to survive on her—,"

"What about Lightning?" Vanille suddenly interrupted as she recalled the soldier. She had lost track of her when the strange booming sounds had shook the earth.

When the guard didn't answer, Vanille turned to look at him. His eyes were lowered, and he was uttering a prayer in their language underneath his breath. Her eyes watered as she realized what he was saying.

That prayer was the sending of the dead.

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><p>Fang had lost a considerable amount of blood, and with Lightning having only the amount of medical training to keep death at bay when out in the field, there was little she could do. In the middle of the night when both had fallen asleep, the tribeswoman had begun to shiver uncontrollably, her body freezing. She began to mumble in a delirious mixture of both languages, and only then had Lightning woken up. She opened and closed her eyes wearily as she heard Fang mutter incoherently. When she got up to check on her, she saw that Fang's natural tan color had paled greatly, her eyes twitching restlessly underneath the sockets, and when Lightning reached out to touch her she inhaled sharply.<p>

Her temperature rivaled that of the cool stone beneath her. She hesitated, the two dominant parts of her mind fighting.

_She's a human being, help her._

_She wouldn't give a damn about you if you died. _

_Which would you be proud of?_

_What is the most logical?_

_Which would Serah approve of? _The middling part of her mind whispered.

Sighing, Lightning kneeled beside Fang, her hands obviously pausing as she reached out to pull the chieftain close.

_Standard procedure, body heat. _

Pulling her clothes off to leave her in only her undergarments, Lightning took the rest of Fang's tribal attire off to leave the woman in the same condition. Leaning with her back against the cave wall, she pulled Fang between her legs to rest on her chest, throwing the clothes on top of both of them before wrapping her limbs around Fang to lend as much warmth as she could.

She ignored how nice it felt to have Fang's body against hers, ignored how soft her skin was and how Fang's arms limply wrapped her arms around her waist unconsciously. She ignored how Fang's hair tickled her chin and neck, and the rising flush to her face.

_You are going to regret this when you wake up. _

_I already do_, Lightning growled back.


End file.
